Radio Days
by Andrea Christine
Summary: This story is a crossover between the shows Providence, ER and Remember WENN, in a special tribute to my favorite characters. This story follows "Ship of Dreams" on the welcometoprovidence.com web site.


Radio Days  
by Christine  
  
Author's Note: This story is a tribute to another show, called Remember WENN, which was on cable for four seasons before being abruptly canceled. I could think of no better way to write tribute than to include characters from other fantastic shows, Providence and ER. This story takes place immediately after "Ship of Dreams," Syd's adventure on the Titanic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! (WENN characters are property of Rupert Holmes and AMC, no copyright infringement is intended ;)  
  
  
  
  
Still confused over her very vivid experience on the Titanic, Syd nestled into the old sofa in the County General lounge after a hectic afternoon of work. There had been three multi-victim traumas, which made for a crazy day. It was only four o'clock in the afternoon, not yet time to go home, as she was on until eight. If things were slow, she may have time to catch a nap before the inevitably occupied evening.  
  
Syd had been asleep for only about twenty minutes when footsteps caused her to stir.   
  
"Time to wake up," an unfamiliar female voice said. "Sydney!"   
  
Syd's eyes opened and she sat upright. She was still sitting on a sofa, but the room was entirely strange. The sofa was the same style as the one in the lounge, but it was new. Plush green upholstery gleamed where worn places had been. She blinked in confusion.   
  
"You're on the air in five minutes!" The voice that had interrupted her sleep belonged to a young woman about twenty-five years old. She was slender but tall, with dark, curly hair and large brown eyes. She was wearing a red belted A-line dress like the ones in the old 1940's movies Syd and Joanie occasionally rented on Friday nights when neither of them had a date. Even her shoes looked like they were straight out of these movies, with thick heels, made of shiny black patent.   
  
"All right, I'll be there in a minute," Syd yawned. The woman dropped a thick bundle of paper into Syd's lap and exited through the swinging doors opposite the couch.  
  
Syd was now alone, able to better investigate her strange surroundings. The entire room was green. The walls were painted a light lime green, and the sofa was a deeper shade. A kitchen-like counter ran across one of the longer walls, equipped with an odd-looking toaster which Syd had seen in an antique store. A teapot began to whistle on the range which stood at the end of the counter. What Syd found the most fascinating, though, was the large old radio that stood in the corner on the other side of the sofa. She became aware that the radio was turned on, though on low volume. Syd moved nearer and listened.   
  
"Why, Brent, I would never have guessed!" A female voice with some kind of accent said dramatically.  
  
"Oh, Elizabeth, how could I tell you my secret? It would ruin everything!" An equally dramatic male voice came over the airwaves.   
  
"It's a radio show!" Syd exclaimed to herself. Her father, Jim Hansen, had a collection of cassette tapes of classic radio shows he liked to listen to as a child.  
  
Turning the volume louder, Syd settled back onto the sofa and listened to the program. Her eyes fell upon the coffee table in front of her, unable to believe her eyes. From the cover of a music magazine was a photograph of John Carter! "Carter Band to Tour Pittsburgh Area" was the headline.   
  
Syd started to laugh. Carter a bandleader? This was too absurd! Where on earth was her mother???  
  
The doors swung open again. It was not the dark-haired young woman, but a neatly-dressed elderly gentleman. He had a thick head of white hair, wore eyeglasses and a large bow tie.   
  
"Good afternoon, Sydney." He smiled as he crossed the room. "Sounds like my hot cocoa is nearly ready. Too bad you're on the air so soon, dear. You really should join Betty and I for our afternoon cocoa break, right here in the Green Room. "  
  
"I'd love to," Syd said, having no idea who he was, wondering if Betty was the young woman who'd given her the stack of papers. She peered down at the top page. THE LOVES OF MARY GLENN, Episode No. 134, March 16, 1941. 1941!   
  
"Ah, Betty, you're here." The man was pleased to see the dark-haired woman come in through the doors. "Could you fix the marshmallows, small just the way I like them?"   
  
Betty smiled warmly as she opened the cupboards to find the bag of marshmallows. "Of course, Mr. Eldridge." She poured the cocoa and stirred the now tiny marshmallows inside. "Sydney, are you OK? You act like you've never seen any of us here at WENN before!"  
  
Syd wasn't sure what to say. "I'm sure I'll be fine. I had a strange dream."  
  
Betty nodded, understanding. "No kidding. With as crazy as things are getting around here, I have them myself every night." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "But it's time for you to be on the air!" She opened the swinging door for Syd. "They're waiting for you!"  
  
Syd found herself in the middle of a hallway with light sconces attached to the walls every few feet. The walls were painted a pastel, and vintage tile ran across the floor. Even though she didn't have any idea what she was doing here, the place had an air of nostalgic comfort. Directly across from the room she had just left was another set of swinging doors, with uncurtained glass in them. A small sign near the door read "Studio A".   
  
"I guess I'm on the air," Syd murmured to herself as she opened the door. She stepped into a radio studio about the size of the Green Room. Five or six microphones, old style but gleamingly new, stood across the floor. An organ was in the corner, underneath a neon "ON THE AIR" sign. A handsome, dark-haired man, wearing a bow tie like the one worn by Mr. Eldridge, was polishing what Syd assumed was the sound effects trumpet. An array of other sound effect tools lay on a table in front of him. He smiled and wordlessly bowed to Syd, welcoming her to the studio.  
  
"I see Sydney has decided to join us," A voice said over the intercom. Syd turned to see a window leading to the control room, where a man stood. He was tall, broadly built, balding with intense brown eyes. "You are playing the part of Ella, aren't you?"  
  
Syd nodded, grateful for a hint of what she was to do. The doors opened, and four people entered. The first two were a couple in their upper thirties. Both the man and woman were quite tall. The man was one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen. He had thick black hair and expressive blue eyes. He carried himself as though he knew he were handsome, striding into the room like a millionaire leaving his yacht. The woman had red hair curled into an updo beneath a tremendously intricate hat. She wore a black and beige jacket that had a beige tie around the waist, a black skirt and shoes similar to Betty's.   
  
Syd heard a familiar laugh as the other two came in. It was her sister, Joanie, followed by Elizabeth Corday! Both were dressed in 1940's clothing.   
"Hey, Syd!" Joanie winked and smiled at her sister. "Ready to go on the air?" Syd nodded, but said nothing. "Don't worry, you'll do great." Joanie took a seat at the organ.   
  
"And we're on!" The bald man smiled and pointed his finger at the actors. The tall redhead opened her script and began to read, her husband following. Syd realized that they were the voices she'd heard on the radio program in the Green Room. The sound effects man stepped into a box of gravel and walked loudly as Elizabeth's character entered. Syd remembered that she was to play Ella, so she scanned the script for her lines.  
  
The program was only a half-hour long, which flew by for Syd. "Nice work," commented the man in the control room. "Elizabeth, time for the news."  
Elizabeth smiled and nodded. Joanie handed her a folder as the neon sign flashed, signaling that they were once again on the air. "This is Elizabeth Corday, BBC Correspondent to WENN, with today's headlines..."  
  
Syd followed the tall couple into the Green Room. "I don't believe I've had a chance to meet you," The woman said to Syd as they poured themselves some coffee. "I'm Hilary Booth, and this is my husband, Jeffrey Singer." "I'm Sydney Hansen," Syd said.   
  
Hilary smiled. "We know, dear. Victor announced that we were to have a new actress all the way from Providence, Rhode Island, while Maple is on vacation. Surely you've seen me on Broadway?"  
  
They talked for the entire thirty minutes of Elizabeth's news program. Syd was used to learning a lot about people in a short amount of time, a skill for which she was grateful. It turned out that Hilary had been an actress on Broadway in her more youthful years, though she couldn't be more than thirty-eight. She missed New York greatly, but was artistically fulfilled in her roles for the radio. "After all," Hilary exclaimed," "where else can I play twenty different characters in the same day?" Yet, Syd sensed a certain sadness in her, that she would never be as satisfied with her career as she had been in Broadway, even though she'd never become very famous.  
  
Jeff Singer was somewhat younger, about Syd's own age. He and Hilary had met during summer stock in Connecticut five years ago, and had married in Matamoros, Mexico. While it was clear that they loved each other deeply, their dialogue was witty and even sometimes sarcastic in a dramatic way.   
  
Elizabeth entered the room after her show was over. "Syd! It's so good to see you! How was the train ride from Providence?"  
  
"Fine," Syd replied. "How long have you been here?"  
  
"Trying to pry secret information, are we?" Elizabeth grinned. "With the war in Europe, the certain government officials in Britain thought it would be handy for their news correspondent to be a surgeon. That's the same reason Mark is training to be the station's assistant manager. He's in Philadelphia on business, but he's been spending the days with Victor, learning the ropes."  
  
"I see," Syd said. She picked up the magazine with Carter on the cover. "John's on the cover?" She started to giggle.  
  
"Of course," Elizabeth answered, obviously not understanding why Syd found this funny. "He's been leading the band for a few years, but now he's doing, how shall I put this, the same kind of work as Mark and I. So is Kerry. You know, secret work."  
  
"You're undercover for the government?" Syd was shocked.   
"Must you say it so loud?" Elizabeth teased her friend. "Yes, last year it turned out that one of the sponsors here at WENN was a Nazi sympathizer who tried to send coded messages to other sympathizers through his radio program."  
  
"So what is Kerry doing?" Syd wanted to see her other Chicago friend, if possible.  
  
Elizabeth flipped through the magazine pages to the article about Carter's band. "She's the new vocalist for John's band. No one knows who they really are, nor should they suspect. She's quite good, it seems. They're coming here, you know."  
  
Syd smiled. "That's what it says,"  
"No," Elizabeth was excited, "I mean they're coming here, to WENN! They will be tomorrow's special on-air guests."  
  
"Wow," Syd was amazed. Wasn't anyone where they should be? She could never have envisioned Elizabeth as a pre-World War II era news correspondent! And Kerry and Carter on the road with a band???  
  
"Hey, sis." Joanie's voice interrupted Syd's thoughts. "I'd love to take you over to The Buttery for a sandwich, but tonight I've got a hot date."  
  
It made sense that Joanie would find herself a hot date, no matter what the decade. "That's fine. I'm really tired, anyway, I'd rather just find a hotel or something."  
  
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "You're staying with me! I've got a flat only ten minutes from here, by trolley. Joanie's been in the spare bedroom for the past few weeks, but I've still got room."  
  
A tall, dark-haired man sauntered into the room. "Burt?" Syd asked, amazed to find Joanie's fiancee at WENN.  
  
"No, this is Michael Stevens," Joanie introduced her date to Syd and Elizabeth. "This is my sister, Sydney Hansen, and Elizabeth Corday. Syd's trying her hand at radio writing and acting. Elizabeth is a news correspondent from the BBC."  
  
"Impressive," said Michael. Syd noticed that he was very well dressed. He wore a navy suit, which played wonderfully off his dark coloring, and carried a hat under his arm.   
  
"See you later," Joanie said to Syd and Elizabeth. "Don't wait up for me. We're going dancing! Benny Goodman's at the Moonlight Room."  
  
Elizabeth turned to Syd. "How about that sandwich? The Buttery's right next door."  
  
Syd suddenly realized how hungry she was. "Let's go!"  
  
* * *  
  
The tour bus was approaching the Ohio-Pennsylvania border in the predawn hours of March 17. Kerry was used to a demanding job that often caused her to function on small amounts of sleep, so she hadn't found life on the road with a band to be as grueling as many vocalists claimed. Yet, today, she was anxious to reach Pittsburgh, as she and John would be appearing on radio station WENN, where Elizabeth was stationed.   
  
Six months ago, if anyone would have told Kerry that she would be the featured vocalist in John's band, she would never have believed it. She had stayed in Chicago during his first tours, missing her new husband greatly. Later, when the press found out that John was a doctor on Sabbatical from his teaching and practice, he had been asked to do some undercover work for the War Department. If John was to be involved in such important and potentially dangerous work, Kerry wanted to be by his side as much as possible.   
  
Their first tour had taken them to Texas, where they met up with another bandleader, Stan Kenton, who was also putting together an orchestra. Stan was auditioning vocalists, and Kerry often had nothing better to do than watch and listen. One day, when things were slow, Stan was playing the piano when Kerry found herself following along. Stan then began to teach her the basics of being a band vocalist. The next day, both orchestras had new; a girl from Kansas City for the Kenton band, and John's wife for his own. Since that day, they had traveled to music halls and radio stations around the country. Being the only woman on a bus full of men was somewhat boring, which made Kerry miss her Chicago friends. She passed the time reading novels and working on her latest research article. John gave her a camera for her birthday, which allowed her another hobby, taking photographs of each city they visited. She had to admit that this new life was very exciting. Nothing, however, could compare to getting to see Elizabeth in Pittsburgh.   
  
* * *   
  
Syd arrived at the radio station around 7:30, while things were still quiet. Jeff and Hilary's morning show, "Bedside Manor", had been on since seven, but nothing else was going on. Gertie, the station's outgoing middle-aged receptionist, was seated at the switchboard. Gertie's radio was tuned to WENN, as usual, where one could hear Jeff and Hilary's sarcastic but funny dialogue about their life together as man and wife.   
  
"Good morning, Gertie!" Syd greeted one of her favorite people at WENN.  
  
"Good morning to you, dear!" Gertie smiled and held her bag of peanut brittle out toward Syd. "Want some?"  
  
Syd reached into the bag. "Thank you, I love peanut brittle."   
Gertie smiled. "So does Betty. I tell you, if the two of you get any more alike, we'll have to assume you're long-lost twins. You're sure you're not from Elkhart?" Both Syd and Betty had dark hair, expressive eyes and a warm manner that made strangers feel like friends.  
  
Syd laughed. "No, I'm from Providence. But Betty and I will be writing together today, so I hope we're still thinking alike!"  
  
On the way to the Green Room to hang up her coat, Syd noticed a man in the hallway. Tall, though not as tall as Jeff, the man carried a football and was muttering to himself as he tossed it up in the air. Syd tried not to laugh, but was smiling broadly as she approached him.  
"I don't believe we've met. I'm Sydney Hansen."  
  
The man grinned, tucked his football underneath his arm and extended his hand. "Scott Sherwood. Very pleased to meet you!" His voice was full of energy and he had laughing brown eyes. "You're Betty's new assistant!"   
"I am," Syd answered politely.  
  
"Aside from being tailback for the Pittsburgh Panthers, I'm acting station manager. And when I'm not station manager, I'm acting!" Scott grinned and wondered how much of this she would believe. He prided himself on being able to spin a yarn in two seconds flat. "See you on the air, Miss Hansen. Duty calls!" He flung his office door open, tossed the football onto his desk, which was cluttered with memorabilia from his trips to faraway lands.   
  
"Bye," Syd said as he shut the door. Betty's heels clicked on the tiles as she approached her new writing assistant.   
"I see you've met Scott Sherwood," Betty said, shaking her head. "If he was filled with any more hot air, he'd explode."  
  
"I know the type," Syd remarked. "Plenty like that in Providence. Tell me something, does he really play tailback for a football team?"  
"No! He told you that?" Betty was amused. "That's what he says to impress women. You must have made quite the impression on our Mr. Sherwood."  
  
They stopped at the end of the hallway, having reached the Writer's Room. Syd was amazed that two desks could fit into such a tiny space. "It's close but cozy," Betty explained. "This was once a very large broom closet."   
  
Syd took her seat. "I like it. Very homey."  
  
Betty located a folder on her desk and handed it to Syd. "Let's start with A Season For Love. It's on in an hour, so we have just enough time to finish the script." She sat down at the typewriter, her fingers beginning to fly across the keys.   
  
* * *  
  
"You would not believe what a gentleman Michael is," Joanie gushed to Hilary Booth in the Green Room.   
Although Hilary wasn't very interested, she was content to listen as long as Joanie wasn't taking an interest in Jeff. Some young women were awed by Jeff's appearance and made this mistake. Jeff did not always resist.   
  
"First we went to this really nice restaurant and then to the Moonlight Room. He is the best dancer," continued Joanie. "After that we went to this little coffee shop and talked for hours. He's interested in sponsoring a program here at WENN."  
  
"Is that so?" Hilary's interest was piqued. This man had not seemed like someone who would be all that curious about radio programs.   
  
"Yes, he wants to sponsor a show about wartime spies. He's got some great ideas, especially for an investment banker! I'll have to tell Betty. He also thought we should broadcast a secret code at the end of each installment, to make it seem more authentic."   
  
Something about this bothered Hilary. She chided herself for being paranoid. Just because one sponsor had turned out to be a saboteur didn't mean everyone wanting to broadcast a show about spies was suspect. Nevertheless, Hilary resolved to tell Victor about her suspicions.  
  
* * *  
  
Gertie knocked on the Writer's Room door. "Ladies, there's someone here I think you might want to see! They're in the Green Room."  
  
"It must be Kerry and John!" Syd sprang up from her chair. She and Betty were at the Green Room door five seconds later.  
  
Kerry, wearing a purple jacket with a black skirt much like Hilary's, was sitting on the sofa, watching the band members file in. "Syd!"   
  
Syd ran over to give her friend a hug and catch up on what they'd each been doing. "It's great to see you! I just found out yesterday that you would be coming to WENN."  
  
"I had no idea you'd be here," Kerry said. "What a surprise!" She lowered her voice in a secretive tone. "We're going on the air today, you know."  
  
"I'm the new writing assistant, and I've been on the air a little bit, too." Syd waved to John Carter, who followed his band into the room.   
  
"Syd! Long time, no see." John Carter was more handsome than ever in his bandleader's tuxedo. "What luck, coming to Pittsburgh at the same time as you," He sat on the sofa beside his wife. "How have you been?"  
  
Syd wasn't sure what to say, since the last time she had spoken with either Kerry or John since she was aboard the Titanic. "I'm fine. I can't wait to hear you on the air today."  
  
"Hey, Providence Girl!" The drummer grinned broadly and waved his drumsticks. "Remember me?"  
  
"Malucci?" Syd was astounded.   
  
Kerry sighed. "He's been in the band since our last tour stop in Chicago."  
  
"I'm sorry," Syd sympathized, aware of how much Malucci could vex Kerry.   
  
The Green Room doors opened, and a flushed and harried Betty rushed in with a handful of papers. "Hello, everyone." Her gracious smile lit up the room. "So sorry to keep you waiting. Whenever the programs are running, so am I. Welcome to WENN, Pittsburgh. I'm Betty Roberts, Head Writer. I'll show you to Studio A, if you're ready."  
  
"Ready when you are," John said, standing up to straighten his tuxedo.   
  
* * *  
  
"Victor? Do you have a moment?" Hilary hoped she was not interrupting any important business. It was difficult to tell, as Victor often sat at his desk, a thoughtful look on his face, for an entire morning. Usually he was brainstorming about a new radio program or broadcasting concept. Victor tended to live in the abstract.  
  
"Hilary, come on in. I was just thinking about a new sponsor program." A gentleman, he stood up as she entered the room. "You look concerned."  
  
"Well, Victor, I am. At first I was sure I was just being paranoid about saboteurs, ever since our quite memorable experience."  
  
Victor's forehead furrowed, as he leaned forward to listen. "I'm sure we all feel that way."  
  
"It's this man that Joanie Hansen has been dating," Hilary nearly blurted. "Something about him just isn't right. He wants to sponsor a program about spies, with a secret code at the end! That's exactly what the other sponsor did."  
  
"Hmm," Victor was deep in thought. "I can see where that would arouse your suspicions. Have you said anything to Joanie?" Hilary shook her head. "No, I didn't think I should alarm anyone. After all, it probably is just my imagination working overtime."  
  
"Maybe, but I'm glad you told me. We'll all keep an eye out for this man."   
* * *   
  
Syd was sitting in the control room, beside the broadcast engineer who was constantly turning knobs and flipping switches, as John and his band performed on the air. The band was excellent, comparable to any orchestra she had heard on her father's records. Kerry sang with the band on three numbers. Her performance was as much a surprise as that of the rest of the band; her voice was clear and melodic, with a perceptive sense of rhythm. Even Malucci played well, behaving himself more behind the drum set than he ever had in Chicago.   
  
After the performance, Syd accompanied her friends to The Buttery for a late lunch. Once again, Joanie stayed behind, which was beginning to worry Syd. Joanie had been obsessed over men before, but there was something about this man which Syd could not bring herself to trust.  
  
* * *  
  
With nearly everyone at The Buttery with John, Kerry and the band, WENN was nearly deserted. Michael and Joanie sat in the Green Room, where Michael had arranged for a catered lunch for two.   
  
"Michael," Joanie was beaming, "if all of your ideas are as good as this," she took a bite of blueberry cheesecake, "your radio show will be an instant hit."   
  
"You shouldn't say that," Michael replied as he filled his glass with tea.  
  
"But it's true!" Joanie exclaimed.  
  
"What I meant is that you shouldn't say it until you've seen my first script," Michael opened his briefcase and produced a rather thick script.   
  
"Wow, you must be a great writer," Joanie was impressed. She reached out for the script, but Michael held it tightly.  
  
"Let's let this be a surprise to everyone, dear." His smile contained something other than happiness, but Joanie couldn't figure out exactly what it was. "Do me a favor, would you, Joanie? Just put this in the studio for the cast to read. Then tell Betty that your sister had already finished it, so she would have more time for lunch with her friends."  
  
"Why?" Joanie was beginning to feel suspicious of his motives.   
  
"It's a surprise." Michael was nonchalant.  
"Whatever." Joanie tried to sound less annoyed than she felt.  
  
"Very well," Michael was satisfied. He kissed Joanie lightly on the cheek before standing up to leave. Joanie stared at the script in her hands. Something was very wrong.  
  
Elizabeth was waiting in the station's reception area, directly across from Gertie's desk, sharing some of the cherished peanut brittle, as Michael left. The women exchanged a wary look.  
  
Once they could hear the sound of him walking down the flight of stairs outside, Gertie pursed her lips and sighed. "You know I'm not usually critical, but there's something I just don't like about him."  
  
"You're not the only one," answered Elizabeth. She spotted Joanie coming down the hall and smiled.  
  
Gertie's pensive expression also changed to a welcoming one. "Joanie, how are you this afternoon?"  
  
"Huh?" Joanie was obviously immersed in a world all her own. She sank into the chair beside Elizabeth, still holding the script, as if it were made of lead.  
  
"My goodness, someone's been hard at work," exclaimed Elizabeth when she saw the thickness of the paper.  
  
Joanie chuckled ruefully. "Exactly. Though I'm starting to wonder exactly what kind of work it is."  
  
"Michael gave this to you?" Elizabeth knew it was pointless to hide her suspicion. "He wrote all of this himself?"  
  
Joanie nodded. "He asked me to tell Betty that Syd had finished it, and to give it directly to the cast. I realize he's in the banking business, but I can't figure out why he would want to broadcast stock quotes at the end of the episode, instead of a secret code."  
  
Gertie pushed a button on the switchboard. "Victor? Could you and Scott please come out here? I think there's something you should see."  
  
Within a few moments, Victor and Scott, accompanied by Betty, Hilary and Syd, were at Gertie's desk. Elizabeth handed Victor the script. "Codes," she said, directing his attention to the stock quotes.  
  
"I see," Victor said with a grim face. "Sherwood, can you decipher this?"  
  
Scott, who had become an expert on codes while having an adventure in the Spanish Civil War, frowned in concentration. "It just goes to show that you can't lock one saboteur up without another coming right in to take his place. This is a message to blow up three of the largest ammunition plants in Pittsburgh."  
  
"Again?" Hilary asked in amazement as she adjusted one of her false eyelashes.  
  
"This is the man you've been dating?" Syd asked her sister, still unable to believe the entire scenario.  
  
Joanie's eyes were large with shock. "I thought he was just an investment banker," she said.   
  
"He's an investor," Victor said, "in the enemy's war cause."  
  
Syd's mind was spinning. What could they do? If they told Michael that Scott had decoded the message, all of their lives would be in danger. They certainly could not broadcast it. He would suspect something if they altered the script...  
  
An idea began to form in Syd's mind. "I know what we can do! We must get started right away, since we don't' have much time. Joanie, you've got to act like you have no idea what he's really up to. You'll distract him..."  
  
* * *  
  
Michael returned at a quarter to seven, when his program was to go on the air.   
  
"It's our new sponsor!" Joanie, wearing a new red dress and bright lipstick to match, greeted him with one of her friendliest smiles. "I haven't been here at WENN very long, but I do know that all first-time sponsors get the red-carpet treatment. Or should I say green carpet, since we're headed to the Green Room. That's where we'll listen. Let's go!"  
  
Without giving him a chance to respond, Joanie whisked Michael off to the Green Room.  
  
Gertie smiled and connected to an outside line on the switchboard. "May I speak to Sergeant O'Malley, please? This is Gertie at WENN. We've got a saboteur."   
"Hurry, CJ!" Betty urged the engineer, who was connecting a cable which snaked out from under the Green Room door to the microphones in Studio A.   
  
"Care for a cup of coffee?" Joanie lifted a pair of coffee mugs from the Green Room counter. "With or without sugar?"  
  
Joanie sat down beside him and took a sip from her own mug. "What could be keeping the caterer? I told them seven o'clock!" She stood up and glanced at her wristwatch. "I'll be right back."  
  
* * *  
  
"Two till seven! Let's tune into your show!" Joanie returned to the Green Room, where Michael had finished about half of his cup of coffee. She turned the large radio on, and sounds of Hilary and Jeff in the premiere episode of "Arnold's Adventures: A Spy in London" filled the room.  
  
"Nice work, Joanie," Michael said between sips of coffee. "Did anyone suspect anything?"  
  
"Not a bit," she answered.  
  
In the hallway, Elizabeth was counting the minutes on her watch. "It shouldn't be much longer."   
Betty's expression was frightened.  
  
"Not to worry," Elizabeth said. "It's just syrup of ipecac. Normally used to expel poisons from the body. Our little spy will soon be nauseated, but otherwise unharmed."  
  
"Unharmed until the police get their hands on him. I hope he looks good in jail stripes," Betty said with a grim satisfaction. No spy would ever be allowed to gain the upper hand at her station!  
  
Gertie came through the Green Room doors, carrying trays full of food. "Hello, Michael. Hello, Joanie. The Buttery just dropped this off for you." She set the trays onto the coffee table. The aromas were inviting to Joanie, as lunch seemed like an eternity ago. Michael, however, was affected in an entirely different manner.  
  
"Joanie, dear," he muttered, swallowing hard, "Could you please show me to the men's room?"  
  
"Certainly." Joanie led him to a door at the end of the hall. "Step right in." Once Michael was inside, she slammed the door and locked it with a key she had carried in her pocket. "This station used to have two broom closets," she explained. "This was the smaller one."  
  
"Very well done!" Elizabeth remarked, giving Joanie a hug.   
"The police will be here in a few minutes," Betty announced. "They'll have all the evidence they need in this." She held up the infamous script.  
  
"I'll go tell the cast that the show's over," said Victor. "since our audience is now indisposed."   
  
Scott looked thoughtful. "I guess I forgot to ask... what have we really been broadcasting for the last half-hour?"  
  
* * *  
  
"Next on WENN's Big Band Hour," Syd announced into the microphone, "we have a relatively new jazz orchestra." She lifted a brand-new 78 onto the turntable and started it. "This is John Carter and His Orchestra, straight from Chicago, Illinois." She turned the microphone over to the turntable and sat back in her chair.  
"Nice taste in music, Syd." Lynda Hansen joined her daughter at the table. "I just love that band. Too bad it's just a dream, darling."  
  
"Yes, I could really see John as a bandleader," agreed Syd. "So where were you when Joanie was dating the spy?"  
  
Lynda sighed and smiled tenderly. "I'm where I always am, Syd... in your heart."  
  
They sat in silence, appreciating the sound of saxophones filling the airwaves. Syd began to hum along with the brass section.  
  
"Syd?" Kerry's voice interrupted her thoughts. "You're humming in your sleep!"  
  
Syd opened her eyes and found herself once again in the lounge at County General in Chicago. "What?"  
  
"You and your dreams," Kerry laughed. "First the Titanic..."  
  
"I was in a radio station, during World War II. You and Carter were in a band. He was conductor and you were a singer."  
  
"Only in the shower!" Kerry replied.  
  
"And Joanie had been dating a really weird guy," Syd continued.   
  
Malucci, who was watching a basketball game on the lounge television set, turned around. "Hey, Providence Girl! Was I there?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, you were. You were the drummer." "Cool!" Malucci pretended to drum in the air.  
  
"Malucci," Kerry began, glancing at her watch. "It's almost three o'clock. Don't you have rounds about now?"   
"All right, Chief. I'm going."  
  
Kerry reached for the remote and changed the channel. "You know, Syd, it's funny you should mention a radio station in the 1940's. There's a great program on at three, just like that. As long as it's quiet, we can watch."  
  
"There's not a guy named Scott, is there?" Syd inquired, remembering her adventure.  
  
"There certainly is!" The show was obviously one of Kerry's favorites. "Have you seen it?"  
  
Syd wasn't sure how to answer. "I think I have..."  
  
THE END  
  



End file.
